


(Well maybe) I'm In Love

by LadyOrion



Series: Only You and I [2]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Falling In Love, Harry's POV, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Canon, Swearing, but they're dumb, i love these bois, teenage stuff, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-23 20:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20221510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOrion/pseuds/LadyOrion
Summary: Harry kept his heart closely guarded. What he couldn’t help but love, he protected. Everything else he remained detached from, not letting anything or anyone break through the defenses he built.He should have known that one of the best thieves on the Isle could slip past his emotional walls without even trying.xA few snapshots from Harry and Jay's relationship, as told by Harry, ending in a realization that his feelings for the son of Jafar are a lot stronger than he originally thought.Title from "Accidentally In Love" by Counting Crows





	(Well maybe) I'm In Love

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so glad lots of people enjoyed the first part in this series! Enjoy some more Harry/Jay content from yours truly.
> 
> These scenes stretch over several months, from June (Harry's birthday) to April. I didn't want to label everything with specific dates, but the general time is mentioned in each different scene.

There were precious few things in the world that Harry Hook loved.

The Isle of the Lost was, in general, a dangerous place for love. If someone knew what you loved, they had power over you. Love meant you had a weakness, something that could be used against you or held over you. And in an overcrowded, inescapable island of villains where everyone had to fight over what little there was, weaknesses couldn’t be afforded. Of course, no human being can be completely without love, so Harry made sure to keep a careful eye on what his heart wouldn’t be swayed from.

Harry loved his hook. It was his prized possession, and the only thing he would truly loathe to part with. With it he carried the memory and legacy of his father, so he carried it with pride. He supposed he loved his father as well, but that was a bit more complicated. His father wasn’t the feared, respected captain he used to be; he was a semi-drunken old man who carried a sword and lost it over the sound of a ticking clock. He loved his children, but didn’t really ever pay them much mind. It had taken his father a month to notice after Harry had moved out of the Hook house and into Uma’s headquarters above the Chip Shop. 

(His sisters were also a complicated thing. Harry liked them fine, maybe even loved them, but they’d never really been close, even as kids. Harriet had been a competitor, both of them vying for their father’s attention. Ironically, they both lost out on a regular basis to CJ, who didn’t even have to try. In their father’s eye, the youngest of the family could do no wrong, and he constantly doted on her, which made Harry and Harriet furious.

Harry also loved the sea. It was practically in his blood; he was born on the Jolly Roger as the tide rocked the boat like a cradle (a fact he’d always held over Harriet and CJ, who were both born in their little house). He couldn’t remember a time he didn’t love to swim, when he didn’t find peace in the salty air and the crash of the waves. He knew every piece of rigging and equipment there was to know about a ship. He’d always dreamt of sailing the open ocean, far beyond the captive hold of the barrier.

Perhaps most of all, he loved Uma and Gil. They were his best friends, and the only people in the world Harry genuinely trusted. Uma and Harry had grown up together, searching for sea glass on the rocky beach and playing pirates below the docks. He worshiped her bold confidence and wild heart. She was a born leader, and Harry was her trusted first mate, even as little children. From a purely spiritual standpoint, they had enough fighting spirit between them to defeat a thousand-soldier army. Physically, however, they’d both been quite scrawny as kids, so they had quickly recruited Gil into their midst. The blond son of Gaston had always been broader and stronger than the other kids. He was their muscle, their intimidation tactic. Of course, only they needed to know that Gil was basically a human puppy, as close to a genuinely friendly person that existed on the Isle. Gil’s ability to survive on the Isle while still being so open-hearted had always been astounding to Harry. 

Harry kept his heart closely guarded. What he couldn’t help but love, he protected. Everything else he remained detached from, not letting anything or anyone break through the defenses he built. 

He should have known that one of the best thieves on the Isle could slip past his emotional walls without even trying.

===

After Harry had pulled them off the docks and into the water, Jay and Harry had spent almost an hour trading kisses and exploring touches on the rocks, hidden safely from sight. Eventually, they parted, and Harry swaggered into the Chip Shop, empty except for Uma, feeling incredibly pleased with the rousing start to his birthday. 

Uma had looked at him, a mixture of confusion and amusement at his cheerful attitude despite being drenched in water. She’d asked, but Harry dodged the question with a vague deflection, heading back to his room to dry off. His lips were still tingling when he sprawled out on his bed and fell asleep.

===

Barely a week had passed when Harry sought Jay out, aching for another taste of the thief's lips. He waited behind a stack of boxes and scrap metal in a shadowed alley outside Jafar’s Junk Shop, watching Jafar’s parrot screech in the window. He wasn’t sure if Jay actually lived with his dad or not, but figured it was as good a place as any to try and find him. 

After a while, he was getting fed up, huffing impatiently. He was about to leave when he heard a clattering sound in the alley behind him. Jerking around, he saw Jay a couple yards back, glaring at the metal pipe he’d knocked over. 

“You’ve gotta work on your sneaking skills,” Harry chided, snorting. “You’re supposed to be a thief.”

“You need to work on watching your back,” Jay countered, kicking the pipe aside noisily as he walked up. “What are you doing here?”

“What, no welcome?” Harry drawled, a slight smirk twisting his lips. “Bad manners, Jay. Ya aren’t happy to see me?”

“Mm, didn’t say that,” Jay said lowly. He took a couple of steps forward into Harry’s personal space, crowding him back against the brick wall. “Heard you had a birthday. How was it?”

Harry hummed thoughtfully, his body heating up under Jay’s gaze, dark eyes sliding up and down his body appreciatively. It was just like when he’d caught Jay staring at the docks. The desire in his eyes was glaringly obvious, and having someone as gorgeous as Jay looking at him like that set his skin on fire in the best way possible.

“Well, I got a great gift from someone gorgeous,” he purred, and Jay’s lips quirked, leaning in closer until Harry could feel his breath, could see every different shade of brown in his eyes. “So I’d say it was pretty good. Too good to be a one-time thing.”

Their lips pressed together, softly at first, and then gaining heat, passion. It was just as intoxicating as Harry remembered. He tangled a hand in Jay’s hair, tugging the thief against him by the front of his shirt. Jay’s hands gripped Harry’s hips beneath his coat, one hand sliding up the back of Harry’s tank top.

Jay leaned back long enough to say: “Sounds like we have an agreement, then.”

Harry answered him by pulling him into another heated kiss.

===

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Harry!” Jay snapped, grabbing Harry by the shoulder and hauling him into an empty building and out of sight. 

Harry scowled, shrugging off Jay’s hand. “Hey, the hell did I do?”

“Cracked three of my fucking ribs is what you did!” Jay shouted, then winced, grabbing his right side and coughing heavily. Harry frowned worriedly, hands going to Jay’s shoulders as the thief hunched in on himself. After a couple seconds, his coughing fit slowed and he shook Harry’s hands off. “Let go; I’m fine.”

“Okay then, pray tell, how did  _ I  _ crack your…” Harry trailed off, remembering. The day prior, Uma’s gang had gotten into a fight with some of Mal’s people over Ravager’s Road. Harry and Jay had ended up facing each other in the fight. Jay froze, and Harry took the opportunity to kick him in the chest, not really thinking about the fact that he was wearing steel-lined boots. “...Oh.”

“ _ Oh, _ ” Jay repeated mockingly, leaning against the wall. “Gods, I can’t believe you did that.”

Harry glared, growing annoyed with Jay’s attitude. “Well what would ya have had me do, huh? Make out with ya in the middle of a turf fight?”

“I’d like you to not use our...thing,” Jay shouted. “Against me!”

“I didn’t!” Harry protested. “I didn’t do anythin’! Ya hesitated, and when someone hesitates, ya get beat. That’s how it goes, and ya know that.”

“Of course I hesitated; I didn’t want to hurt you!”

“Well I don’t want to hurt you either!” Harry shouted, and then everything seemed to freeze. Harry exhaled heavily, his shoulders dropping slightly as the anger between them seemed to fizzle out. “But we don’t have that choice.”

Jay opened his mouth to say something, to protest, maybe, but Harry held up a hand and cut him off, needing to say this.

“Listen.” Harry said. “I like what we have, Jay. It’s fun, and you’re hot. But we’re on different sides here. Mal and Uma aren’t goin’ to mend any fences anytime soon, so we’re goin’ to be facin’ each other in fights. It’s gonna happen again.” 

Jay clearly knew Harry was right, and didn’t look happy about it. “Fine, yeah. So where does that leave us?”

“We don’t have to stop. We can still be...” Harry cut himself off, unsure what to call them. They’d been seeing each other regularly for about two months now, kissing and fooling around and talking. But Jay was not his boyfriend. They were not dating. But it felt wrong to say they weren’t anything outside hooking up. Harry did care for Jay, more than he should. He bit his lip. “Whatever we are. We just have to agree where the line is. What’s okay and what’s not, and when and where things are okay.” Jay blinked at him blankly, an odd expression on his face. “What?”

Jay shook his head slightly. “Nothing, nothing. That was just very...reasonable and mature.”

Harry scoffed, offended. He was perfectly capable of being reasonable (at times), it was just so boring. “Fuck ya; no need to act so gods-damn surprised.”

Putting up his hands in a surrendering motion, Jay said: “Okay, so where’s the line? You said we’ll have to fight each other, and you’re right, but we have to control ourselves better. Fight for real, but with no lasting damage. Hit hard enough to bruise, but not hard enough to cause real injuries. No breaking bones, no cracking skulls, no dislocating or fracturing anything.”

After a pause, Harry nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.” He paused, something Jay said earlier coming back to him. “And we can’t use this against each other.” At Jay’s slightly puzzled expression, Harry continued: “Like ya said: no tryin’ to distract each other with our...arrangement, in fights or in anything else gang-related. We keep gang business and this completely separate.”

“Good idea,” Jay agreed, nodding. “Anything else?”

Harry shrugged. “I dunno. Not right now. But we can add more later.” Jay nodded, and Harry stepped closer, reaching a hand out towards the thief’s side. “Can I see?”

Jay frowned, but lifted his shirt. Harry sucked in a breath. The right side of Jay’s chest was several nasty shades of purple, blue, and yellow. There was raised, swollen skin above the middle part of his ribcage, and Harry knew this is where the ribs were fractured. He raised a hand, brushing his fingertips very lightly over the injury. 

“Does it hurt?” Harry asked. He knew as soon as he said it that it was a stupid question. Of course it hurt. Jay huffed a small laugh.

“Only when I breathe,” he said. His voice was tinged with humor, but also sounded strained.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered, barely loud enough for Jay to hear. Harry rarely apologized for anything, and it didn’t seem to do much good. It did nothing to alleviate the nagging feeling of guilt in his chest. “I didn’t mean to kick ya that hard.”

Jay sighed, and Harry noticed the minute flash of pain on his face. Had he been wincing like that this whole time and Harry just hadn’t noticed? Or had Jay himself become distracted from his pain while angry, only to remember it now that he was calm.

“It’s okay,” Jay said softly, sliding a hand around the back of Harry’s neck, pulling his face closer. “But if you do it again you’ll have to get me a nice ass gift to make up for it.”

“Oh yeah? And what am I doing to make up for it this time?” Harry leaned in, careful not to put his weight against Jay’s chest. 

“This,” Jay murmured, then closed the distance between their lips. 

===

Harry reclined against the wall, seated on top of a slightly splintered desk, occasionally tossing wood splinters at the chalkboard in the front of the room. 

The empty classroom at the end of the third floor corridor belonged to him. Everyone at Serpent Prep knew that. It was a private place he (or Gil, and even Uma on occasion) went when he didn’t feel like attending a class. The desks were scattered around, some standing and some knocked over. The chalkboard was covered in graffiti and the small window in the door was blacked out so no one could see in. It was December, and it was cold in the school, but Harry still kept the windows open, enjoying the breeze from outside. 

Harry was jolted out of his relaxed state when he heard one of the windows creaking, like it was being pushed further open. His eyes snapped open, ready to kick the ass of whoever thought they could invade his space. However, he froze when he saw Jay grinning at him, throwing a leg over the windowsill and landing gracefully inside the classroom. 

“ _ Jay? _ ” Harry gaped at the thief as he crossed the room towards the pirate. Jay put his hands down on Harry’s knees, leaning in to kiss him.

“Hey gorgeous,” Jay drawled after breaking the kiss, pulling back to wink at Harry. “Feel like having some fun?” He asked, mouthing along Harry’s jaw and down his neck. 

“How’d...how’d you ge...get up h-here?” Harry finally got out, distracted by Jay’s hands running up the inside of his thighs and his teeth nipping at his neck.

“Climbed,” Jay said matter-of-factly, pushing Harry’s shirt up his chest with on hand. “Haven’t seen you in weeks. Not being able to kiss you...touch you,” he purred, desperation coloring his voice as he licked and bit down Harry’s chest and abs. “Was driving me crazy.”

Harry cursed under his breath, blood starting to rush south. Jay suddenly fell to his knees, pushing Harry’s thighs apart, smirking up at Harry from between his legs. The fire that gaze lit in Harry was something he’d never thought possible.

Jay would be the death of him, but Harry found, in this moment, he couldn’t care less.

===

“What’s that face for?” Jay asked as they sat across from each other on a rooftop watching the sun go down, their legs slung over each other as they passed a bottle of shitty alcohol between them. 

“It’s Gil’s birthday in a couple days and I  _ still  _ haven’t found somethin’ to get him,” Harry said. Jay rolled his eyes a bit, which Harry thought was quite unfair. Okay, has he been complaining about this particular problem for the better part of a month? Yes. But it was serious! Not many people on the Isle really cared much for birthdays anymore, Harry knew that. However, he, Uma, and Gil did, and they made an effort to always get each other something. Harry bristled, feeling defensive. “I know it’s stupid, but—”

“It’s not stupid,” Jay said quickly. “When is it again?”

“The 6th,” Harry replied mournfully. Only two days away. A sudden thought occurred to him, and Harry looked at Jay curiously. “Wait, when’s yours?”

Jay frowned, drumming his fingers on his knee. “Uh...the 21 st .”

“Of February?”

“...January.”

Harry straightened, his eyes widening in shock. He reached across and punched Jay in the shoulder. Jay gave a startled yelp, batting his arm away. 

“Hey!” Jay exclaimed, holding his arm. “The hell was that for?”

“That was like two weeks ago!” Harry snapped. “Why didn’t ya tell me?”

“It’s not a big deal, okay?” Jay said, crossing his arms. Harry blinked at him in disbelief.

“You’ve listened to me goin’ on about celebratin’ birthdays for a month,” Harry said, annoyed. “And ya didn’t think I’d want to know that?”

“That’s you and Uma and Gil’s thing,” Jay retorted. “Besides, I don’t need a gift. And anyways, I spent my birthday with you, so even if you didn’t know it you were kind of celebrating it.”

Harry groaned, knocking his head back against the concrete ledge behind him. “That’s worse, ya bastard. I probably spent the whole time complainin’ about  _ Gil’s  _ birthday.”

“Well,” Jay said with a sly quirk to his lips. “Not the whole time.”

Harry pointedly ignored that comment, jumping to his feet as an idea struck him. Jay moved to follow him, looking confused, but Harry held him down with a foot on his thigh, shaking his head vehemently.

“No, ya stay here,” Harry said, lifting his foot. “I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?” Jay called after him, as he dropped down the ladder.

“Never ya mind. Stay fuckin’ there!” 

Harry returned just under half an hour later, a small package in his hand and a victorious grin on his face. As he climbed up the ladder onto the rooftop, he was pleased to find Jay sitting in the same spot, looking out at the now almost entirely dark sky. He looked over as Harry retook his spot.

“What’s that?” He asked, eyeing the small, cloth-wrapped object. Harry handed it to him, and the thief unwrapped it carefully. “Bread?”

“Brioche,” Harry replied. “French sweet bread. I saw Cook makin’ them when I left the Chip Shop to come here earlier. He doesn’t make it often, and it’s fresh.” 

Jay blinked at him, looking a mixture of surprised and touched. He held the roll delicately, and Harry nudged him impatiently with the toe of his boot.

“Go on, try it,” he insisted. “It’s not gonna poison ya.”

Jay tore off a piece, popping it in his mouth and humming appreciatively. “Damn, that’s good.” He said, licking his fingers (which did  _ not _ turn Harry on, he told himself firmly, not even a little bit). 

“Happy late birthday, asshole,” Harry said, kicking Jay’s shin playfully. “Now eat that so I can suck your dick.”

Jay coughed mid-bite, glaring but not looking opposed to the notion, and Harry laughed.

===

Harry collapsed back against the mattress, breathing heavily. Jay smiled smugly up at him, wiping his lips with the back of his hand and retying Harry’s pants. The thief moved up to lay next to him, lying on his side and trailing his fingers over Harry’s shoulder. They’re both shirtless, their jackets and shirts have been thrown gods know where. Their shoes had been kicked off, lying by the foot of the bed.

“Gods, I can’t believe ya brought me here,” Harry said for the hundredth time, glancing around Jay’s room. Jay’s bed was tucked behind a wall and sheets of tarp, about a foot of space on either side of where the mattress lay on the floor. Beyond that was a tattered couch and a scratched up coffee table, a large punching bag hanging from the ceiling, a lamp, and boxes and baskets of mostly stolen items. On the wall was a silhouette of Jay and a “Long Live Evil” icon of Jafar in genie form, both probably painted by Mal. It was all so Jay; it was like Harry could feel him radiating from the entire space. 

“Well, Mal, Evie, and Carlos are all out for the night,” Jay repeated, also for the hundredth time. “They won’t be back until early morning.”

“Better not be,” Harry muttered tiredly, leaning closer into Jay. “Mal’d be so fuckin’ mad if she found out ya brought the enemy to your secret hideaway. And then she’d stab me, and that’d be on ya."

Jay rolled his eyes. “It’s hardly a secret; people know we live here.” 

Jay didn’t comment about Mal being furious, Harry noticed, because he was fucking right. As usual. Harry yawned, pushing Jay over so that he was lying on his back. Harry then turned on his side, repositioning himself so his head was resting on Jay’s shoulder with their legs intertwining. 

“Tired?” Jay asked, sounding amused as Harry yawned again and closed his eyes, throwing an arm over Jay’s chest. Jay’s arm came up to wrap around Harry’s shoulders, comfortingly warm and solid.

“You’re not?”

Jay shrugged, jostling Harry’s head slightly and getting smacked on the side in retaliation. “I don’t sleep much, but especially not when the others are out. I can’t sleep when I’m home alone.”

Harry pointedly ignored the slight skip in his heartbeat as he said, with careful disinterest: “Well, you’re not exactly home alone, are ya?” 

The fingers of Jay’s other hand carded through Harry’s messy hair, a slow rhythm, and Harry thought he could probably melt. He loved his hair being played with ( or pulled ), and Jay absolutely used this knowledge against him. However, Harry enjoyed every second of it, so it’s not as if he could complain. Well, he did complain, sometimes. But he never meant a word of it, and the smirk on Jay’s face said that he knew it too. 

“No, I guess not,” Jay said quietly. 

“Knew ya had ‘nother motive t’ wan’ me here,” Harry mumbled sleepily. The combination of exhaustion, warmth, and Jay’s fingers in his hair were rapidly making him lose his hold on the waking world. 

“Guilty,” Jay breathed through a yawn, and Harry knew that he was falling asleep as well. He heard Jay’s voice again, but didn’t hear what was said as he drifted into sleep.

**A few hours later:**

“Jay!” A voice called loudly. 

Harry woke with a start, sitting up so fast he almost tumbled to the floor. Jay shifted, opening his eyes and blinking up at Harry, his face relaxed and sleepy. Harry momentarily forgot about the imminent crisis of being discovered, thinking to himself that he could stand to see that wonderful expression every time he woke up. 

_ Wait, what? _

His blood froze in his veins, the horrible implications dawning on him.  _ Oh, shit. _

“Wha’s wr’ng?” Jay mumbled blearily, blindly reaching a hand out to Harry. It made a warm feeling flutter in Harry’s chest, and Harry cursed himself internally for not seeing it before.

“Someone’s outside,” Harry said, remembering, and Jay was instantly awake. “I don’t know who it—”

“Jay!” the voice shouted again, coming from outside the building. 

“ _ Shit _ ,” Jay cursed as he scrambled to his feet. “Evie.” He staggered to the foot of the bed, pushing through the tarp curtains. “Stay there, but get dressed, quickly.”

Harry got up and searched the floor for his shirt, spotting it in the corner and throwing it on. In the main part of the warehouse, he could see Jay opening a window and leaning out. He hadn’t put a shirt on, and Harry was suddenly remembering in vivid detail sucking marks onto Jay’s chest and collarbones. 

“Hey, E.” Jay called down to the street, where Evie must have been shouting from. Thank  _ gods _ she hadn’t come up here. “You’re home early.”

Harry only partially heard Evie’s reply as he slid on his red coat, something about hurting her shoulder and not being able to throw the rocks (whatever that meant). 

“Yeah, just hang on a sec. Stay there,” Jay said, before closing the window and waving Harry over urgently. Harry tossed him his shirt as he approached, pointing to Jay’s chest. The thief cursed quietly, putting his shirt back on, which was a necessary evil, Harry supposed. “You go back out the way you came in,” he said. “I’m going to let Evie in the front way.”

“Oh, so ya mean not everyone has to climb in and out of a window,” Harry snarked, ignoring the anxiety of almost getting caught. He opened the window he’d come in from, untucking the rope ladder from between a set of pipes.

“Nah, that’s just for you,” Jay said with a wink, leaning over the window to kiss Harry briefly before he climbed out of reach. Harry huffed, secretly a bit pleased, and quickly climbed down the rest of the way, his boots hitting the ground with a soft thump. 

As Harry swept silently down the twisting alleys of the Isle, he felt his heart would beat out of his chest. Once he was a safe distance away, he stopped to catch his breath, leaning back against the wall. 

“ _ Shit _ ,” he muttered to himself, shaking slightly, and not from the April night’s chill, but from the awful, horrible realization of what had happened to him.

Harry was in love. He’d long since accepted he was fond of Jay, that he cared more than perhaps he should. That was fine; not ideal, but fine. But this...

This was a disaster.

The more Harry thought, the more he realized this had been a long time coming. Every smile that had made his heart flutter. Every mishap that was somehow endearing instead of just annoying. All the private thoughts he’d shared, while wondering why he was doing it, why he was trusting. The empty, achy feeling when he was gone, and the recurring thought: “Jay would love this”, whether it was about a joke someone had told or something valuable in someone’s bag. And contentment in his chest when they were finally together, just as ready to sit in silence, or talk, or hook up, as long as they were together. 

Falling in love with Jay had been a miscalculation, a chink in the armour. Oh, but it was too late to take it back. The thief had crept into his heart and carved out a place for himself. He had placed himself among the things that Harry couldn’t help but love. It was beyond his control. 

Despite the fear that bubbled up in him at this monumental realization, Harry knew he couldn’t fight this. Truthfully, he didn’t want to fight this. He wanted to drown in Jay; he wanted to never let him go. And so, he would. 

Because there were precious few things in the world that Harry Hook loved, and Jay was one of them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Expect more from me in a few days.


End file.
